


alone

by gh0stbvrsoot



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Dave | Technoblade - Freeform, Death, Family Dynamics, Gen, Ghostbur, Injury, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Sleepy Bois Inc. (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Toby Smith | Tubbo - Freeform, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Violence, War, Wilbur Soot - Freeform, no beta we die like Tubbo at the festival, philza - Freeform, sibling dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0stbvrsoot/pseuds/gh0stbvrsoot
Summary: wilbur died, and techno is the only one who can see him
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Platonic Relationships - Relationship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 166





	alone

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: hi! i dunno if youre still doin the angsty prompts but i am BEGGING for some sbi based angst,, also itd be pretty neat if it was mostly abt techno i think,, oki thats it ty ily bye mwahhhhhh
> 
> my brain: brrrrrrrr sbi angst

the first time technoblade is face to face with his deceased brother, is exactly two days after the war broke out. he’s positioned just high enough to get a perfect view of l’manberg, and also giving himself the upper hand– in case he feels threatened, thus combat and protecting himself becomes a necessity.

he’s hidden under the shadows from treetops looming over his frame, just as the sunset is coloring the sky in breathtaking, velvety colors. a deep frown is etched into his expression, as he silently observes the lot. they all seem to be doing well and thriving, despite the circumstances.

there’s– for once there’s life and _peace_ in l’manberg. and it’s a rare sight at that. he wonders how long it’ll last before something else happens. consumed by his trail of thoughts, he doesn’t even seem to notice the person hovering above him before it’s too late. it’s a moment he won’t forget.

”wilbur”

his voice is barely above a whisper, but wilbur’s gaze pierces through him like a dagger. there’s a serene, almost _content_ smile on his lips, despite the neverending sadness in his hollow, lifeless eyes. technoblade slowly stands up and brushes grass off of his dirty knees, his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back.

”hello, techno”

the voice wavers, as if the ghost fades in and out of existence. it sets something off inside of him, alarm bells continuously ringing in his head, only for the horrifying realization kicking in that his body is in fight-or-flight. he swallows thickly, vigorously shaking his head in denial.

”you’re not real”

his voice falters and he staggers, just in time for him to hear wilbur laugh. except it’s devoid of life, of any human emotion. a deep chill seeps through his bones. _it can’t be_. no, his eyes are deceiving him. or maybe this, whatever _this_ is– is a manifestation of his ...

guilt. and remorse. pain. self destructive thoughts and patterns. _it’s not real_. he’s frozen, cold to the core. only when wilbur tries to reach out for him, his body functions and his first and only instinct is to run. run as fast as he can; trees, bushes, colors and scenery melting together in a blur.

he runs until his lungs give out, collapsing to the ground and his heartbeat _thump-thump-thumping_ loudly in his chest. even then, the adrenaline, his drive to escape and run away overrides any other logical solution. the attempts to distract himself are futile and nothing calms his nerves, limbs sweaty and shaking.

he gulps in deep breaths of air, forcing himself to stand on shaky legs. and– wilbur is there, _again_ , hovering just slightly above him. there’s a guilty expression on his face, but it doesn’t cover up the look of hurt in his eyes. wilbur doesn’t dare approach, remaining glued to his spot.

”you’re dead,” a statement.

”yes. and you can see me”

techno breathes out, blinking slowly. given the circumstances and nature of how everything works around here, he shouldn’t find it odd or strange. yet he’s not a believer of the supernatural, and he’s still unsure whether it really is his mind playing tricks on him or not. he wets his lips and clears his throat.

”this’ll take some time getting used to”

–

”do you remember?” wilbur asks hoarsely, as techno enters the living room.

he’s sitting still on a chair with a blanket wrapped tightly around him and surrounded by utter darkness. the curtains aren’t helping much at all, the white glimpses from the lightning seeping aimlessly through and he jolts whenever the loud, crashing thunder follows. the rain drums violently against the windows, a rhythmic sound.

he nods, quietly watching his brother. wilbur closes his eyes, in an attempt to ignore the thunder and focus on the peaceful rain. it helps for a while, until another immense lightning strikes. the room is lit for not even seconds and his body stills, forcing himself to remain calm.

techno forgets all about his dripping, wet clothes leaving pools of water on the floor. _it can wait until later_ , he decides. he unsurely reaches out a hand and places it on wilburs shoulder. his body sags at the physical comfort, although it doesn’t last for long, much to techno’s frustration.

”we all used to comfort each other during thunderstorms. me, you, tommy …”

wilbur’s voice trails off, distant; as if he’s elsewhere. techno blinks rapidly, desperately trying to suppress the memories that are long gone. the techno he used to be doesn’t exist anymore, he can’t– cant recognize that person or see himself in him. it’s like staring back at a complete stranger.

with a huff he turns his attention to wilbur. despite his brother being very much dead, it looks like whatever’s happening to him is worsening. the room is exploited by the lightning for the upteempth time, exposing the faint outline of wilbur’s silhouette. a shiver runs down his spine.

if he didn’t know any better, it– it looks like he’s dying for _good_ this time. but techno doesn’t wanna consider that option, he’s grown so accustomed to his presence and feels comfortable around him. it takes a lot of time for him to open up, even to his own family.

”i’m scared”

wilbur seems so small all of a sudden, curled up in the chair and eyes darting wildly around the big, empty room. techno gives him a reassuring smile and it seems to do the trick, when a thought hits him. he questioningly gestures towards a light switch and wilbur nods in affirmation.

he blindly guides his hand along the wall, exclaiming a muffled victory and graces the switch with his fingertip as if it’s nothing. the glow of the lamp is vaguely illuminating the room and by the looks of his brother, he already seems much more comfortable, basking in the light. 

–

”i like what they’ve done with l’manberg”

it’s a simple statement, but the smile on wilbur’s face is worth it, as he’s curiously observing the others working on their respective houses. a breeze of something sweet and delicious wafts through the air, the scent of flowers, summer and baked pie mingling together. techno hums thoughtfully, raising a brow.

”it’s only a matter of time until another war breaks out”

the air is hot, sweat clinging to his skin as if it depended on it. despite the welcoming breeze, it does little to ruffle his hair or cool his dampened skin. the birds chitter from vivid treetops, and in the distance he faintly hears grass crunching under someone’s bare feet; echoing laughter erupting immediately.

the vibrant, mesmerizing flowers move in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm as if to the heartbeat of the bright sky. and he– he shouldn’t be here. truth be told, techno doesn’t know what he’s doing at l’manberg or what he’s trying to prove. he made his stance on the matter painfully clear last time.

”please don’t say that”

wilbur’s gaze flickers and he wraps his arms protectively around himself, in an attempt to shield himself from techno’s word. the pained, conflicted expression says a thousand words and worst of all, techno understands every single one of them. _i’m sorry,_ he wants to say, but words fail him when he needs them.

the lingering presence of another person alerts his attention and he turns around, unsheathing his sword. it’s– it’s tommy. _oh_. he shoots him an unapologetic look, hiding his weapon as quick as it appeared. there’s anger and pain flashing in tommy’s eyes, and techno can’t blame him. not for the pain he caused.

”who are you talking to, big t?”

”wilbur”

he gestures towards the hovering ghost besides him. tommy reluctantly follows his gaze, staring at the empty spot. all the color drains from his face and his eyes widen in stunned silence, the anger and pain now replaced by utter worry. he opens his mouth, forming a jumbled mess of unintelligible words.

the silence that follows is agonizing, and time seems to slow to a stop. techno barely registers the presence of the others, their equally worried expressions and the mumbling words echoing between them. he can’t take his eyes off of tommy, too caught off guard by the trembling lips and tears welling in his eyes.

”is this a fucking joke to you? he’s– wilbur is dead, techno”

he sniffles, taking a step back. tubbo immediately reaches out for his friend, quickly followed by the others. he catches a glimpse of them squeezing his shoulder with reassurance; speaking comforting words that are caught off in the midst of it all. the sinking realization he’ll never be able to offer his brother safety or protection _hurts._

”i–”

”leave, techno. just go”

–

techno cautiously moves towards the flower field, taking off of his heavy, soft cape as he does so. wilbur is hovering above the sweet scented dandelions, basking in the light from the sunbeams that goes straight through his transparent body. for a second he contemplates whether it’s worth mentioning, but ultimately decides against it.

a lot of things has been on his mind lately, and most of the thoughts have to do with wilbur, his dead brother. how can he, as the only person, still see him ? why aren’t the others able to see him ? is he– is he really just a part of his imagination ?

maybe that’s all he is, nothing but a figment of his guilt and remorse. and that’ll be his downfall. the questions are escalating rapidly, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s going to blow like a ticking time bomb. the worried expression on tommy’s face resurfaces in flashes.

despite tommy disowning him, he’s still a better brother than techno will ever be. tommy cares about him, even though he fucked it up– even though he’s the reason the war happened and escalated further. would wilbur still be alive to this day, if he had acted differently and changed sides ?

he shudders at the thought. he doesn’t want to think about all the ‘what if’s’ and ‘could’ve been’. they’re past the point of no return, and the sun went down a long time ago. he shuffles past the rose bushes, placing himself besides wilbur and sighs. he’s gazing longingly for something he can’t put a name to yet.

techno clears his throat, snapping him out of his daze. he blinks a few times and lightly shakes his head, now focusing his full attention on techno. wilbur offers him a fragile smile, something he rarely sees and he truly appreciates the small, important moments he's given with them.

”you want to say something,” he mumbles and inhales, before adding, ”what is it?”

”why can’t the others see you?”

wilbur’s eyes darken, something techno makes a mental note of, and he’s watching him intently. his mouth is slightly agape in incredulity, and it more than once seems like he wants to say something, but whenever he opens his mouth, he’s at loss for words. wilbur sighs in surrender and defeat, shrugging half heartedly.

”i … i don’t know. i’ve been asking myself the same question”

wilbur groans, flailing his arms in annoyance. the answer is a dead end and only leads to more confusion on techno’s behalf. he grits his teeth, curling and uncurling his fists. _not good enough_ , he thinks bitterly, but nods. there’s nothing else he can do except accepting it as it is.

three days later, the ghost of wilbur disappears. this time it’s just with the intention of never returning. but techno is blissfully unaware of that, and thus worries himself sick with dread and fear. he– he cares about his brother’s well being, safety and protection, even in death. but now he’s alone.

he thinks it’s a self fulfilled prophecy, and whichever attempts he tries to fix the mess he made is futile. as the days blend with the weeks, techno slowly, but forcefully, forgets about his time with wilbur. he erases the memories they had together whatsoever and replaces them with new ones.

the only difference being the new memories are dull, lacking of a presence he had grown all too much used to. he busies himself with preparations instead; there’s a war coming, and he has to prepare for the worst case scenario. the only one techno can rely on is himself.

there’s an underlying reason as to why he forces himself to forget. _it hurts too much._

–

no one wins or loses at war, it’s only chaos, destruction, strife, pain and remnants of a place once brimming with life left in its wake. techno has attested to it more than once, and this time is no difference. everything around him happens in a blur, flashes and glimpses of swift movements.

swords are clanging in the air, along with hollow screams and shouted words, a cacophony of distorted noises in symphony. an arrow strikes his neck, drawing blood. the sun is beating down, warming his already clammy back. dried blood, sweat, metal and salt lingers in the air as he aims his crossbow.

it all happens too fast for techno to even register it; and once he does, it’s too late. the sword sinks into him with ease and he lifts his gaze, meeting dream’s smiley mask staring right back at him. the white mask is in stark contrast compared to what’s happening around them.

light, goodness, innocence, _purity_. dream is none of those things associated with the color white, and he deems it ironic. blood gushes from the wound, staining his shirt a deep, darkened red. the pain pulses throughout his body and he manages to make a guttural sound, blood spilling from his lips.

”you betrayed me”

he chuckles. ”don’t pretend to be surprised”

the taunting chuckle is still ringing in his ears, a familiar sound he’s heard one too many times. dream pulls out the sword, blood rushing to his ears the moment he falls. tommy wails, a piercing sound through the deafening silence, and both him and phil is by his side in a matter of seconds.

flashes and glimpses of memories long forgotten pass him by in a blur and he can’t make sense of it. it’s like a bad dream, the haunting memories are too bright and smudged all at once. phil and tommy desperately clutch him, tears staining their cheeks, eyes red and puffy. he hates it.

hates that he can’t comfort or protect them. he failed them, just like he failed wilbur in the end. tommy is muttering helpless words, while phil combs his hair. their forms are pressed tightly against him, but he can’t feel them. they slip out of his grasp, just as he takes one last ragged breath.

time stills. their silhouettes are muffled, dimmed, but he knows phil and tommy is watching him with pale faces, empty eyes and bodies drained from energy. loss. no one should have to experience loss as much as they have. grief courses through his veins, overshadowing everything else. the sight of his own fragile frame is unbearable.

one silhouette suddenly stands out in the midst of it all, clear as the light of day. wilbur. he feels nauseous and light headed, his vision swimming. thoughts and emotions melt together as their eyes meet, and wilbur smiles. his appearance is left untouched, and it eases him, knowing there’s still something so simple, yet familiar about him.

”what’re you doing here, wilbur?”

the overwhelming sadness still haunts his eyes, but there’s understanding hidden in the depth of it and techno knows better now, _thankfully_. wilbur nods towards his lifeless body, and he can see the faint outline of phil cradling him. he shivers, only now noticing the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

”it’s not your time yet. you– … look after tommy. please”

there’s a pleading, begging edge to the tone of his voice and it sets every nerve inside of him on fire, an unsettling feeling. but despite everything, it’s all he wants. to become the brother he always wanted to be, mend the broken bonds between them. it’s too late to salvage his bond with wilbur, but not tommy.

”i promise”

when techno wakes up, he’s cold and alone. 

–

**Author's Note:**

> kudos to you if you catch my reference at the end :]


End file.
